


Bunker Snowman

by TheFrenchiestLlama



Series: Christmas Fics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas watching over young!Dean, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Prophetic Dreams, snowman building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9008053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFrenchiestLlama/pseuds/TheFrenchiestLlama
Summary: Some Christmas fluff where Cas and Dean make a snowman together, and Dean has a realization about Cas. Sam makes hot chocolate.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eagle1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eagle1/gifts).



> A random one shot based on a prompt from user Eagle1

It was to be Cas’ first Christmas at the bunker, and in Dean’s mind, his first real Christmas ever (Cas argued that he had experienced billions more Christmases than Dean ever would, but Dean just brushed him off). It had taken quite a bit of convincing before Cas even agreed to stay with them over the holidays, but he seemed to like the idea of it just being the three of them, bonding together. Like he was part of something.

            Dean wanted Cas to think of himself as part of the family, and he felt like he didn’t do enough. This was a good step.

           

Two days before Christmas, Dean awoke with the sudden urge to build a snowman. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to do something that he hadn’t done in almost twenty years, but he didn’t try to explain it, he just did it.

            He searched for Cas for a couple minutes before eventually finding him reading a book in the kitchen with a cold cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of him.

            Dean sat beside the angel and motioned toward the mug. “What’s this?”

 Cas looked up at the drink and raised his eyebrows as if he had forgotten it was there. “Oh, right. Sam came down here last night. He mumbled something about not being able to sleep, and proceeded to make us both hot chocolate.”

            “Have you been sitting here all night?”

            Cas turned to him, a confused look still on his face. “I don’t sleep, Dean.” He said in his own form of blunt sarcasm. Dean nodded. He knew this fact, but he would never get used to it.

            Then, Dean remembered why he had come in the first place; “Hey, do you wanna make a snowman?”

            Cas’ face didn’t react. “I don’t know how to make a snowman, Dean.” Dean laughed. “That’s great then! I’ll teach you!”

            While Cas didn’t seem to understand how this was great, Dean could tell that he like the idea, because he didn’t put up much of a fight (although he seemed a bit hung up on the fact that he didn’t know how to build a snowman, like he thought that Dean would make fun of him for his lackluster snow handling skills).

            Dean didn’t expect it to be so hard to explain how to build a snowman, and soon discovered that he had been lucky that Cas even knew what a snowman _was._ He was continuously pointing out how inaccurate the anatomy of a snowman is, but rather than being annoyed Dean simply found it funny. Call it the holiday spirit.

            Once they were outside, wearing three layers of flannel and a trench coat respectively, Dean did start to doubt his plan a little. The snow outside of the bunker was slushy and blackened in places, but he knew that they could make do.

Suddenly, he remembered the last time he made a snowman. He asked Cas if he wanted to hear about it, and while he simply nodded silently he did seem interested.

Dean had been fifteen and Sam eleven, and it had been one of the times when they were worse off than usual. John hadn’t been able to come home as soon as he’d thought, so they were trapped at some crappy motel as their grocery money slowly dwindled. Dean already knew that he wouldn’t be able to get Sam Christmas presents any time soon.

So, to lighten the mood, and to get out of their godawful motel room, Dean declared that they would go to the nearest park and build snowmen.

Unlike the snow around the bunker, the snow in the park was a perfectly undisturbed white and was at the best temperature for packing. While Sam jumped right in and began packing snow into tight balls, Dean agonized over what to build. He consulted his younger brother, who thought for a couple seconds before exclaiming that he should build an angel.

Abruptly, Dean remembered a dream he had had a couple months earlier. They had been in a different town, when John had been chasing what he suspected to be a rogue angel (although at that point he hadn’t confirmed their existence).

Angels soon became a popular topic of conversation between the three of them, since John kept bringing home reading material on them that Dean ended up reading aloud to Sam whenever their dad would be absent late into the night.

One night, after getting particularly lost in a book about archangels, Dean had a dream. It showed a boy about Dean’s age having an argument with a faceless man who seemed to be his father. While nothing in the dream indicated it, Dean had the intuition that the boy was an angel. He was strikingly handsome, with messy black hair and bangs that unfortunately fell directly into powder blue eyes. Dean couldn’t make out what the argument was about, except that the man had made a choice without consulting the boy, a choice that the boy didn’t agree with.

He could tell that the man and the boy didn’t usually argue. He recognized the tone of the argument as the same one as in the arguments he often had with John. It was that of a usually obedient son deciding to act out.

Dean didn’t know how he remembered it all so vividly, but he resolved to build an angel out of snow that looked like the one from his dream.

Dean had never been a very good sculptor, but what he lacked in artistic talent he made up for in determination. He was single minded in his decision to build an accurate snow-angel.

He was content enough with the result, although it didn’t exactly fit the image he had had in his mind. The snow-angel’s eyes were missing the striking blue color that Dean thought would have really pulled it all together, and he had decided to give it wings that the dream angel hadn’t had.

Once Sam was finished with his classically built snowman, he came and inspected his older brother’s.

“What the heck is it supposed to be?” he remarked skeptically. Dean grunted and rumpled his little brother’s hair roughly. “It’s an angel, like you said!” He replied. Sam’s confused expression deepened. “Angels are supposed to be girls, Dean. Why didn’t you make a girl angel?”

Instead of annoying Dean, his brother’s statement just made him smile. “Angels can be boys, too, Sammy. You know that.”

They stuck around in the park for a little longer, walking around and people watching until Sam’s feet got wet through his boots and it began to snow.

When they finally decided to walk back, Dean realized how long and inconvenient the route they had taken to get to the park truly was. What was worse, the snow began to come down progressively harder until it became hard to see anything but the light from the streetlights. Sam began to complain that his feet were so cold that they were becoming numb, and Dean’s feet were beginning to feel it too. He worried that they might not make it back before sundown.

Just when Dean was about to express his worries to Sam, however, what Dean later came to recognize as a miracle occurred. A pair of headlights appeared ahead of them, and as they got closer Dean saw that they were attached to a giant truck. The thing stopped next to them on the road, and the driver’s side door opened to reveal its burly driver who told them that they looked cold and asked if they needed a ride.

Telling the story as an adult, Dean realized how dangerous accepting this offer had been, but when fifteen-year-old Dean looked down at his little brother’s giant doe eyes he just couldn’t help himself. And, surprisingly, the man didn’t murder them. He was simply a good Samaritan who happily offered to drive them wherever they were going.

What was more, when they got out into the parking lot of the motel, Dean was surprised to see the Impala parked in front of their room.

When they got inside they saw John sitting on one of the beds watching TV, with two sloppily wrapped gifts at his feet.

“God, not even getting yelled at about accepting rides from strangers could ruin our mood that night.” Dean concluded his story with a smile, and when he looked at Cas he was surprised to see that Cas was smiling softly as well.

While the snowman they ended up building wasn’t nearly as good as the one that Dean had built when he was fifteen, he insisted that it was the greatest snowman he had ever seen. While Cas could tell he was lying Dean’s persistence was enough to make the angel’s smile even bigger, which was enough for him.

When they got inside they found a Sam who was extremely angry, both at the fact they had built and a snowman without him and that Cas’ hadn’t drunk the hot chocolate he’d made him. He insisted he make them some more, and this time Cas really did drink it. He didn’t like it, exactly, but he drank it.

It wasn’t until Dean later re-told the story to Sam that he had a realization. He rushed to find Cas and burst into the bedroom where the angel was watching TV.

“Cas.” He said, breathlessly “That dream I had-the one about the angel-was that you?”

Then, Dean saw something that he had almost never seen Cas do. He blushed-it was subtle, but it was there, the slight red coloring in his cheeks.

Cas’ expression didn’t change, though. “It’s very possible, Dean, that you had a prophetic dream about me, although I don’t remember having that particular argument.”

Dean simply nodded at this explanation, before turning to hide his smile from Cas. He highly suspected that Cas did remember, and that he had had something to do with the friendly truck driver, as well. Dean liked the idea that Cas had been watching out for him and Sam.

That night Dean went to sleep hoping to have a dream about that same angel once again.

 

 

 

 


End file.
